The Broken Girl
by HallowsHorcruxes
Summary: Hayley Potter has been thrown into the deep end of her depression, losing her Godfather has only made it worse, she blames herself for everything and is full of self loathing. She suffers with Depression, Self-Harm, Eating Disorders and Self-Hate. Who can help her or is it all too much for her? Triggering, suicidal thoughts. The themes of this fic are M rated.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is a fem!Harry fanfic, fem!Harry/Tonks so if you don't like same sex pairings don't read this. It's set in the summer after fifth year. Hayley Lily Potter is back at Privet Drive, the weight of the prophecy on her shoulders, the abuse she suffers from the Dursleys and the belief that she is responsible for not only Sirius' death but Cedrics, Bertha Jorkins, Frank Bryce (the muggle from the fourth book) and her parents. There is self-harm in this story and attempted suicide! Some thoughts may be triggering and I apologise for that, you have been warned.**

When this is all over we'll live like a proper family. That's what he told me, me and Sirius, a family, something I've never had and the only thing I've ever wanted but I'll never get it, and why? Well that's simple, because everyone that loves me, everyone that cares about me, even just a tiny bit dies, you may think I'm overacting but I'm not just look at the facts; my parents died to save me, they loved me and they died, Cedric he cared about me, he tried to stop the school bullying me when I was forced into the Tri-wizard tournament, he also told the Hufflepuffs in my second year that I couldn't be the heir of Slytherin and to leave me alone and Peter Pettigrew killed him, Bertha Jorkins and Frank Bryce, a muggle man I never knew existed until I watched him die, there deaths are my fault, Voldemort killed them whilst trying to get his body back and he needed his body back because my mother sacrificed herself for me which in turn destroyed his body, see? My fault again. Finally, Sirius died because I was _stupid_ enough to fall for a god-damn trap! I should've known! I should've tried harder at Occlumency! I should have died NOT HIM!

"Girl! Get the fuck down here!" Vernon yells, interrupting my thoughts, moving slowly so that I don't irritate the cuts on my thighs I trudge down the stairs into the kitchen where my supposed loving uncle is waiting for me. "I'm fed up of you moping around!" He growls at me. "You act as if your life sucks, well it doesn't! You have a roof over your head, food in your fucking worthless stomach what more could you possibly want you ungrateful freak! You're beating aren't even as bad as they fucking could be you whore!"

"Actually," I start in a toneless, dead voice. "My life does suck, every single day I wake up and drag through the day wanting to die and feeling lonely; I get laughed at and picked on a lot too. I'm struggling with school because I can't focus because of these thoughts in my head, I stay up late crying every night because I wish I could be pretty and skinny like everyone else around me and sometimes I stay up wishing I could die, I don't have the energy to do anything anymore and all I want to do is sleep but when by some miracle I do fall asleep I'm assaulted by nightmares. I'm slowly being sucked into this vortex of sadness and loneliness, but no one cares. So yes I do have a roof over my head, but I'd rather it be a casket and I do get fed but I eat practically none of it but if that doesn't mean anything or that I should be happy when all I can think about is going back upstairs and mutilating my body. Again."

That stumped him, he looks at me as if he's seeing me for the first time and maybe he is, maybe he's finally realised that he doesn't have to beat the crap out of me, or make me bleed anymore because I'm doing it myself, maybe he's realised that he doesn't need to go out of his way to show me that he hates me because I hate me too, probably more so than anyone else in this house, probably more than Voldemort himself, maybe he's finally realised that he doesn't have to remind me that I'm worthless and a freak because I have the scars on my body to prove it. Just last night I scratched the word worthless on my left thigh, the night before I did the word freak onto my right. Maybe he's finally realised that there is not one person in this house that doesn't hate me and that I in fact hate me more than they ever could.

He grunts at me and I take that as my dismissal and I take my leave going back up to my room to let my thoughts eat at me until I break again. I was doing so well, I stopped self-harming at the beginning of fifth year, then Umbridge made me write with a Blood quill and I relapsed, I didn't need to cut my thighs or wrists because Umbridge was making me slice into my hand, I had so many detentions with her until after Christmas I tried to stop again and it worked, I stopped for a whole month. I was so proud of myself but when Hermione asked me why I wouldn't tell her, it had been a month since I cut myself but the voices, they wouldn't stop and that night they won, and I wondered if I'd go for a razor or just end it all and jump of the Astronomy tower. After hours of crying and arguing with myself I gave in and opened the hidden compartment in my trunk, overwhelmed with emotions I chose my blade, oddly delighted with the choice that I'd made, and once again I took the razor to my vein and without even flinching or feeling any pain, well there is pain of course but it's the nice sort of pain, the lovely kind of pain that reminds me that I am alive and I can still feel. So I sat there emotionless, with blood pouring from my wrist, giving into that feeling that I could no longer resist a small smile across my face as it spilled down my arm. Caught up in the evil people know as self-harm. Ron asked me the next day how I was and of course I answered fine, because when people ask you that question they don't expect an answer like 'Suicidal and depressed.'

I get into my room and get started on my daily exercises guaranteed to make me skinny, instead of the fat, ugly, bloated, worthless person I am. After my 100 crunches I move onto 90 jumping jacks, then 80 lunges, 70 squats, 60 seconds of running on the spot, a 50 second plank, then 40 jumping jacks, 30 squats, 20 high knees and finally 10 push ups. I do this twice a day, when I wake up and before I go to bed. My diet if I even eat it is; breakfast, a glass of orange juice and a piece of brown bread, lunch, a medium sized apple, dinner, eight baby carrots or a green apple, I drink lots of water or other zero calorie drinks as its really the only way to get through this diet.

I sit back on my bed and start thinking again, which is always dangerous, thinking always ends with me hurting myself, my friends don't know that I do this but I don't blame them, you see, I started to hurt myself when I was nine, I was sad and lonely, I had no one to comfort me so I wore a mask that always smiled to hide my feelings behind a lie. I can't tell my friends now anyway because who would love a girl who has scars, more scars then friends in fact, cuts herself, starves herself, hates herself and could never _ever_ love herself. Tell me who? I ask myself questions like this all the time, other frequent ones are; why am I fighting to live, if I am just living to fight? Why am I trying to see, when there is nothing in sight? And finally, why am I dying to live if I'm just living to die? So far I've found the answers to none of these but I suppose I never will. If I do I'll let you all know though, promise.

Hedwig swoops into my room with a letter tied to her leg, it's probably from the order, I asked Hermione and Ron to not send me any letters, I said I needed some space to try and deal. Getting the letter I saw that I was right my weekly letter from the order asking if I was okay. I ponder my reply for a moment. I wrote on a piece of parchment; No. I'm losing my grip on reality every second, do you know what it's like to burst into tears at any moment? To be with people and yet still feel so alone? To cry and scream when no one can hear you, to grip tightly onto your stomach and feel the pain take over? To have to count your reasons to live just so you don't give up? Do you? Do you know what it's like to feel so unsure and insecure all the time? To feel as though there is nothing anyone can do to make you feel better anymore? To constantly battle yourself? To drown in your thoughts that only make you realise just how pathetic and worthless you are? To look down at your body every day and see scars that will be there forever; scars that call out for more? To be locked in a mind that echoes chaos and is constantly screaming? Because that's how I feel ever day now tell me if you felt like that, would you be okay?

Sighing I got a fresh piece of parchment and wrote; Yes. – H.

Tying it back onto Hedwig's leg I watch my beautiful, snowy owl fly away, wishing that I had the freedom to fly away too. Going back to my lumpy bed I sit crossed legged on the bed, a small smile gracing my unhealthily pale face as I noticed that I finally have the thigh gap I wanted, my ribs are quite prominent but not enough and I can see my shoulder blades and spine but it's just not enough! I'm still fat. I glance at the only mirror I have in the room, it's broken because I can't stand to see my worthless self in it. Smashing that mirror with my fist was the first thing I did when I got back to Privet Drive. Finally, something that reflects the madness and brokenness inside.

At 12:30 I realise it's time for my jog, I call it a jog but it's more like I run until I can't go on, spend some time catching my breathe and then run back to the house. I know I'm being followed by an order member but I could care less. I wrap my legs and wrist with the bandages I stole from Madam Pomfrey and set off out of the house. I start slowly at first trying to get used to the pain of my cuts rubbing, four blocks away I gather full speed and run, I run and run and run as if my life depends on it because in my mind it does, because if I'm not skinny enough what's the point? It's hot outside, the hottest it's been this summer and I'm wearing a jumper, I run the total of seven miles before throwing myself down onto the grass in an empty field that I stopped at, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath, my head feels all light because of how little I've eaten, but I'm going to be skinny right? Who cares if that's detrimental to my health? I made my choice a long time ago, healthy or skinny? Which one did I want to be. Well as you can guess I chose skinny and I've stuck by my decision as I will continue to do, even if it kills me because I'd rather be beautiful then alive. I wait a few more minutes before I stand up and get ready to go back. I push myself as hard as I can and get back into my room seven minutes quicker than usual. I struggle with my sweater and breathe deeply as I try to conquer the light headedness but I've already lost and I collapse onto my bedroom floor, the scars on my arm showing and the new cuts on my thighs bleeding through my leggings.

**A/N: So that's the first chapter, how did you like it? And if anyone feels like Hayley does you can talk to me and I'll try to help to the best of my abilities. Oh and I need a Beta-Reader so if you would like to be mine please PM me.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Chapter two.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, unfortunately.**

"I am worried," Albus Dumbledore started the Order of the Phoenix meeting. "About Miss Potter. Her letters to us are basic, either just writing the words 'fine', 'yes' or something along those lines, I have been informed by her guard Nympha-" At this Tonks glared at the headmaster. "Sorry Miss Tonks that the only time she leaves her room is to either do a copious amount of chores, or run until she cannot move any longer. Is there anything else Miss Tonks?"

"She's skinny, too skinny, unhealthily so. I can make out her shoulder blades, I know that you can see her ribs, she doesn't have a flat stomach, it goes in out itself and she has a gap between her thighs, she is deathly pale and has dark circles under her eyes as if she doesn't sleep at all." Tonks informed the worrying Order.

"This is disconcerting." Dumbledore said gravely. "Does anyone have any ideas on how to help young Miss Potter?"

"She needs to be at the Burrow." Mrs Weasley answered immediately.

"Molly," Mr Weasley said his voice full of sorrow. "She wrote to Ron and Hermione asking for them to leave her alone for a while claiming she needs time to sort things out, I fear that if she sees them it will reverse any progress she may have made."

"She needs someone to watch over her! Someone to talk to, god knows those Muggles don't care! She needs someone to make sure she's eating! She needs someone!" Mrs Weasley spoke nearly hysterical.

"I'll do it." Tonks said shocking nearly everyone but Dumbledore whose eyes twinkled at full force. "I'm already watching her pretty much every day, might as well help her out." She shrugged trying to hide her delight at being able to talk to Hayley.

"That Miss Tonks sounds like an excellent idea, I'm sure if anyone can help Miss Potter it will be you."

Tonks smiled. "I'll just go and get some things from my apartment then I'll be off." She stood up to leave stopping only when Dumbledore addressed her again.

"I shall talk to the ministry so that you can do magic and it not be blamed on Miss Potter, she doesn't need any more run-ins with underage magic."

* * *

Ugh my head hurts, I slowly open my eyes just to quickly shut them again against the blinding sun, I must've been unconscious all night. That means that I missed my nightly exercise and my morning lot. Standing up I blink the spots from my vision and eat the apple that has been posted through the cat flap in my door. My stomach fuller than it had been growls at the little food its getting but I ignore it, it's not growling, it's applauding me I try to encourage myself as I drink the several bottles of water that Petunia has given me.

I triple my workout to make up for everything that I missed and collapse onto my bed after changing into a baggy sweater, to hide my fat stomach, and a different pair of leggings. The wounds on my legs have started to scab over, my wounds heal quickly I think it's some kind of magic and soon they'll turn into the scars my body so desperately craves.

I grab a piece of paper and start to write down my thoughts; I do this only when they're too much which seems to be happening a lot more nowadays.

Look at me, I'm so fat, I need to lose weight to become a thin, beautiful, perfect girl, that's what I need to create, first I'll start with one pound and by the time that's done it's just not enough, so now I'll push for two, the two pounds come and go but I'm still not happy with what I see, so I'll look at myself and think hey lets shoot for three, pound after pound I will shed but yet I yearn for more. My next goal is four and over time I'll become addicted, four turns to eight and so I keep losing as I fuss more and more about my weight, I look into the mirror and I'm disgusted, the fats all I can see, eight turns to sixteen and I just want to be thin! I'm getting sick but I don't give a damn, because I'm just too obsessed, too focussed on my weight. I'm scared of gaining just one gram and soon I'll lose fifty pounds, I don't see it as being deathly thin I see it as the opposite of fat, but I'm not there, not yet so I say a couple more pounds, just a few, and I know people say that a bit further on this so called 'disease' will kill me, and that people will stand there at my funeral, pretending to care and crying as the play my last song but my face is smiling because I finally hit perfection, I'm finally skinny.

Folding up the piece of paper I place it under the lose floor board in my room, where I hide all of this stuff, my razors, knives, lighters, the pieces of paper with my thoughts written on them and my bandages. The only place I know no one will ever find it.

I regret starting to cut, before I made that first cut, before I started to harm my body I thought I would be able to control myself, but with every cut I felt my pain going away and found the blood strangely addicting. I stopped cutting my wrists when I was eleven, I still have the scars but foundation hides them whilst I'm here and concealment charms whilst I'm at school, I cut my thighs now because people ask to see your wrists, no one ever asks to see thighs.

I need to stop thinking! I close my eyes and see Sirius fall through the veil, Cedric get hit by the killing curse, Frank Bryce get eaten by Nagini, how I think they got Bertha Jorkins (it isn't pleasant.), I watch as my mum and dad die before my eyes shoot open.

I grab some more paper again and start writing;

What if I wanted to break  
Laugh it all off in your face  
What would you do?  
What if I fell to the floor  
Couldn't take this anymore?  
What would you do, do, do?

Come break me down  
Bury me, bury me  
I am finished with you

What if I wanted to fight  
Beg for the rest of my life  
What would you do?  
You say you wanted more  
What are you waiting for?  
I'm not running from you

Come break me down  
Bury me, bury me  
I am finished with you  
Look in my eyes  
You're killing me, killing me  
All I wanted was you

I tried to be someone else  
But nothing seemed to change  
I know now, this is who I really am inside  
Finally found myself  
Fighting for a chance  
I know now, this is who I really am

Ah, ah  
Oh, oh  
Ah, ah

Come break me down  
Bury me, bury me  
I am finished with you, you, you  
Look in my eyes  
You're killing me, killing me  
All I wanted was you

Come break me down  
Break me down  
Break me down

What if I wanted to break…?  
Bury me, bury me  
What if I  
What if I  
What if I  
What if I  
Bury me, bury me

**(A/N: This is not mine, these are lyrics from Thirty Seconds to Mars' The Kill. I know it wasn't around when this was set but we can all use our imaginations right?)**

I place the new piece of paper into my hiding place as the cat flap opens and eight baby carrots and four bottles of water are pushed through. Is it that time already? The doors been locked so I can't go on my run today which sucks. I eat my carrots and push the plate back through the cat flap, take my water bottles and place them on my desk, keeping one with me as I go back to my bed.

A loud crack erupted in my bedroom and I look up to see who it was, the bubbly, pink haired Auror, otherwise known as Nymphadora Tonks. I don't reach for my wand or stand in any defensive position I just remain sitting crossed legged. I take a gulp of my water, not taking my eyes of off her.

"Prove to me you're really Tonks." I say twisting the cap back onto my bottle. She changed her hair colour from pink to purple, then blue with green in it and then back to pink. "Sorry that won't cut it, you're not the only Metamorphagus in the world."

She sighed and flopped onto my uncomfortable bed, wincing when a spring pokes her. "Hermione and Ginny like it when I change my nose into a pig snout and a duck bill." She says and I nod.

"So what're you doing here?" I ask drinking some more water.

"I'm to stay with you until you leave here." She answered simply. Fuck. That means I'm going to struggle finding times to cut. "Is that okay?" She asks after I don't speak.

"Oh… uh yeah, yeah sure."

She nods and smiles brightly.

"Well how about we get out of this room for a while, go to that field you go to a lot?"

"How do you know about the field?"

"I'm the one who's been watching you."

"Oh. Well I'd say yeah but we are locked in here by four locks, two pad locks and one bolt."

"They've really put those on your door?" Her tone is shocked but I don't understand why, its normal right? Well its normal for me.

"Yeah, I'd rather not get into an argument with them either so do you fancy sneaking out of the window?" She looks dubiously at the window that has bars on it, luckily they swing open now when they're unlocked so that Hedwig can get in and out.

She pulls her wand out but I shake my head. "No magic, there's no need." I say grabbing two unravelled paper clips and picked the lock. "It's a handy skill. The more you do it the easier it is." I shrug before throwing the bars open and lowering myself out the window. "Careful, there's rose bushes below." I tell her before letting myself drop. I land badly and the pain that shoots up my leg makes me smile slightly, Tonks lands next to me and I can tell she's about to lose her balance so I throw my arm out and steady her, she smiles her thanks and we set off for the field. No one comes to this field because it's so far out of everyone's way, I come here every day, when I'm here. It's my escape. The only safe haven I have whilst I'm here. We get there and I go straight to the weeping willow and sit underneath it. Tonks sits next to me and we're silent for a while and then she asks that dreaded question.

"How are you?" Always the same question.

"Fine." Always the same lie. "You?"

"I'm fine." We sit in silence again and she opens her mouth to say something else but I panic and don't let her ask whatever it was. "You know I found out the name of this tree when I was five." I say quickly, she closes her mouth and listens to my story. "And I spent, it must've been close to three hours trying to make it happy."

She laughs softly. Crisis averted, thank god! It's only been seven hours since I cut myself and already I desperately want to do it, but how with Tonks here she's going to notice, she'll notice my diet! What if she makes me eat?! I can't do that! It'll ruin me, I need to be skinny, I'm not skinny yet! This summer holiday just got a hell of a lot more complicated.

**A/N: So how was it guys?**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Chapter three.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, like literally nothing.**

It's three a.m. Tonks is asleep, we got back to my room at ten and she made some changes to it as soon as we got in. It now has a bathroom, kitchen, a lounge and two bedrooms, one for me and one for her. She also changed my bed, much to my dismay, I now no longer have springs stabbing me, no matter where I lay. I never knew I'd miss the pain those springs gave me until they were gone. Luckily my room has stayed the same, apart from the fact it's a little bigger, which means my loose floorboard is still there, so is my… equipment.

I quietly slip out of my bed and to my floorboard, what shall I pick, a razor or a lighter? Which one is going to be my salvation? If I start to burn my flesh the smell might wake Tonks up and that would be, to put it lightly, life ruining, so a razor will be the best choice for tonight. Four long cuts later and I finally have that lovely calm feeling. I wrap my thing up and decide to do my exercises now. After I'm finished its only been an hour. Four a.m. and I'm so tired, but if I sleep, I'll dream and if I dream they will always be nightmares, and when I have nightmares I'll scream and if I scream then Tonks will come in and if she comes in she might find everything out and that would definitely not be okay.

I grabbed some paper and started to write a poem I remember seeing, it was called _Relationship With Ana._ It goes as follows;

I've seen this girl named Ana  
She's pretty thing and tall  
She has the smallest frame I've ever seen  
And not one single flaw

I met this girl name Ana  
She introduced herself today  
She seems so very nice and kind  
She says she wants to stay

I know this girl named Ana  
She's so perfect and it's true  
I'm so fat compared to her  
But she'll make me skinny too

I'm friends with this girl named Ana  
I've started eating less  
Hating the person in the mirror  
My life's becoming a mess

My best friend is this girl named Ana  
I want her to always stay  
All my other friends have left  
But she will never stray

The only one I listen to is Ana  
She's so smart and full of advice  
I'm starting to get smaller  
My health is the only sacrifice

I'm scared of this girl named Ana  
I can't get her out of my head  
It finally occurred to me  
She wants me to be dead

I hate this girl named Ana  
She makes my life a living hell  
Someone please hear my silent screams  
Cause she won't let me tell

My worst enemy is this girl named Ana  
She's a demon in my head  
She seems so very nice at first  
But I was so mislead

I'm a prisoner to this girl named Ana  
I'm captive to her will  
I can't help but to do what she says  
How can I be so fat still

My murderer is this girl named Ana  
She starved me to my grave  
My heart finally stopped beating  
I just couldn't continue being brave

I sigh a deep sorrow filled sigh, a sigh no person should ever find themselves sighing. It's the sigh of a broken person, it's the sigh of hardship, of pain and of defeat and it's a sigh I find myself doing oh so very often. Writing out that poem killed half an hour, what to do now? Reflect. Reflecting can either be good or bad, it either leads to me hurting myself, doing excessive workouts or sitting on my bed, numb.

I tell people I'm tired, when it actual fact I'm depressed. I tell people I'll be fine tomorrow, but I _know_ tomorrow will be worse and I tell lies every day, and I know that I'll not be able to stop myself. I just feel as if I'm lost inside myself and I know I should seek out help but I can't help the fact that I just feel like I'm irritating everyone.

I get another piece of paper, I really need to stock up I'm running out, and start writing again. Do you know what it's like to have barely any friends that are there for you? Do you know what it's like to have no one understand you? Do you know what it's like to have no one to talk to? Do you know what it's like to have to hide your pain every day? Do you know what it's like to not want to talk to anyone? Do you know what it's like to feel like crying all the time? Do you know what it's like to feel like you are doing nothing right? Do you know what it's like to be judged for everything you do? Do you know what it's like to want to hurt yourself? Do you know what it's like to over think everything? Do you know what it's like to be tired all the time? Do you know what it's like to feel empty? Do you know what it's like to be tired of everything? Do you know what it's like to want to give up? Do you know what it's like to not feel wanted? Do you know what it's like to fake a smile? Do you know what it's like to feel side for no reason? I know what it's like, and it hurts like hell.

Some days it's enough just to know that I have a packet of blades in the house, they are a cold, sharp, security blanket that I can't see myself living without. I was getting better… but then I remembered what I was trying to get away from, I remembered the things that tear me apart and now, now I'm right back at the start. My days seem to follow the same pattern. I get home. I look in the mirror. I cry. I see how ugly I am. I see how fat I am. I want to die. And the worst part of it all is the next day, it happens all over again until the day where I give up. I'm starting to find it kinda funny, and I'm finding it kinda sad, the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry for disappointing you, I'm sorry for misunderstanding, I'm sorry for being such a screw up, I'm sorry for not being there, I'm sorry for not understanding, I'm sorry for disapproving, I'm sorry for ruining everything. I'm sorry for breaking our promises, I'm sorry for not being good enough, I'm sorry for lying, I'm sorry I messed up my life, I'm sorry I gave in, I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I'm sorry for complaining, I'm sorry for pushing you away, I'm sorry for breaking down, I'm sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry for hurting myself, I'm sorry for breathing, I'm just so sorry.

I put the paper back into its hiding place as it's nearing six now and I don't know what time Tonks will wake up. I'm lonely, always have been always will be, now let's clear up some common misconception being lonely doesn't mean having nobody next to you. It means feeling sad at night and realising you can't talk to an anyone without having the constant fear of disturbing them, it's being surrounded by a sea of people and feeling like you don't even belong with them, or anywhere else in the world. Being lonely doesn't mean having nobody next to you.

I throw myself back onto the bed, my head falling face first into the pillow. Walking on broken glass would feel better than having to live with the hurt that creeps into my soul every night. It festers and waits there until I start feeling well again, then it whispers words of hate into my ear and I, I can't do this any more. I hate being called strong, everyone calls me it but I'm not strong okay? If I were so strong I would've never started to cut myself, I would never have attempted suicide, I would have never skipped meals and completely stopped eating because somebody called me fat, I would've never started this stupid self-destruction cycle. So no I am not strong, I'm far from it actually, you're just all too easily convinced by my fake smile. What a wonderful thing huh? Fake smiles, it's amazing what a person can actually hide behind one and no one, not a soul can tell.

I haven't slept in so long and I'm so tired, but why sleep when you can stay up late every night being sad, then feel like shit the next day?

Everyday suicide goes higher up on my list of options on how to solve my problems and that would terrify most people but to me, it brings me some sort of weird joy.

I figured something out, wanna hear it? The normal kids go to sleep at eleven, the slackers go to bed after twelve, the broken kids stay up all night with their headphones in staring at the vast nothing, because their minds are never at rest and they're tired physically and emotionally but peace will never reach their souls. So in those very moments between hating how sad and broken they feel, between hating life they wish, pray, dream for that moment when peace will sweep over their minds, and, in the midst of it all when they finally drift off into the nothing their minds will finally be able at rest, just to start the chaos in the morning. To another depressing day.

I just feel so alone all the time, and it's not that I need someone, well, it is, but not someone certain, just someone who will give me the love that I crave, anyone, but I haven't been loved for a long time and I realize that now I have shut everybody out until there was nobody left to love me, I know now that I am human, that I, too, need a lovers touch and kind words, that I am no different, that I crave affection. I don't like being human.

So how do you know someone is depressed? Well it's all in the details. The way someone stops smiling the moment you aren't looking. How their answers become shorter, their laughter a little bit more forced every time. You'll sometimes catch them with a distant look in their eyes, as if they're staring into the big nothingness that surrounds them. Completely gone. Lost. Alone. You might find that they start distancing themselves from you, making excuses, feeding you with their little covering lies. 'I'm just tired,' they'll say. They'll laugh it off, every single time. You should pay attention to how they start covering up their bodies, hiding every inch of their skin, _hating_ every inch of their skin. They won't take your compliments, if so, you'll only get a simple 'thank you' and they will take it all for lies. Self-hate could easily be mistaken for self-irony – although they say it with a smile on their face, keep your eyes open for the empty look that follows. Pay attention. Never look away, because they are nearly impossible to spot, unless you're one of them.

My bedroom door opens and I see Tonks stood there, in her pajamas. I thought I was crying quietly, huh. My face is tear stained as I turn to look at her, I take a deep breath in. I need to do it now before I lose my courage, I need to do it now before it kills me, can I tell her though? I feel as if I'm nothing but a burden and she doesn't need that, but yesterday she said she was here for me. I look into her eyes and she gasps. I guess my eyes are finally revealing how I truly feel.

"Tonks." I say nothing above a whisper, and I wonder if she can even hear me. "Tonks I need help."

**A/N: There ya go, hope you enjoyed it. Don't forget to review! :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, alerts and favourites. You guys ROCK!**

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing.**

People think depression is sadness, people think depression is crying, people think depression is dressing in black, but people are wrong. Depression is the constant feeling of being numb, being numb to emotions. You wake up in the morning just to go back to bed again. Days aren't really days; they are just obstacles that need to be faced. And how do you face them? Through medication, drinking, smoking, drugs, cutting? When you're depressed, you grasp onto anything that can get you through the day. That's what depression is, not sadness or tears, it's the overwhelming sense of numbness and the desire for anything that can help you make it from one day to the next.

When I first heard about people who cut I thought it was so weird, I didn't understand how anyone would want to inflict that sort of pain on themselves, then I picked up that blade and now, now I fully understand.

If you don't understand mental illness, good. Good for you. You shouldn't have to understand. If you don't understand why some people can't get out of bed in the morning, good. I hope you jump out of bed every single day; ready to take the world by storm. If you don't understand how someone could drag a blade across their skin, good. I hope your never that desperate to feel something. If you don't understand what would drive a girl to keep starving herself despite everything she's lost in the process, good. I hope you stay that way. If you don't understand why he won't just go to church or rehab or find someone who can help him, good. I hope you always have somewhere to turn. If you don't understand how someone can keep swallowing bottles of pills, tying knots in ropes or standing at the tops of bridges, good. I hope your never that desperate for relief. If you don't understand, good. You're not supposed to, it's all sick. Thank god for ignorance, it's healthy.

You see a pencil sharpener, I see a blade. You see scissors, I see a blade. You see a knife, I see a blade. You see everything normally, I don't.

"I hate myself." I whisper. We've been sat in silence since I said I needed help.

"You hate yourself? What do you mean?" She looks so upset, but I don't understand why, but then again I've hated myself for so long.

"I mean I hate every part of me. I hate the way my hair looks, I hate my thighs, I hate my stomach, I hate my face, I hate my mind, I hate every last bit of me. It's like being trapped with the one person you hate with all your heart, the one you find just repulsive, absolutely disgusting, and horribly ugly, forever. You know how even if you're having a bad and you look like crap you can still look in the mirror and see something about yourself that you like and be confident? I never have those days. Ever. When I look in the mirror I see the ugliest thing ever. I see my worst enemy. I see my every flaw, because flaws are all I'm made up of."

I glance at her for the first time since I started to talk and see she looks so upset and lost. She pulls me over to her and I have to fight not to wince when the motion irritates a cut on my thigh, she holds onto me tightly and I can feel some tears land in my hair, I want to break, I want to cry, I want to stop pretending to be strong but I can't.

"But you're beautiful, you're lovely, you're flawless." She whispers pressing a kiss into my hair.

"Don't," I whisper. "Don't tell me I'm beautiful until you've seen my scars that cover my body and the blood that pours out of my soul. Don't you dare tell my I'm lovely until I completely shut you out because I swore to myself you're just like the rest and you'll get sick of me. And don't, don't tell me I'm flawless until you've seen me break down in tears I'll show you the darkness that consumes me and you'll run away. But if you have seen my scars, bitterness and darkness then perhaps I'll believe you." Tears well up in my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. I've never seen Tonks this sullen, we got quite close this last year, sent letters to each other regularly even when Umbridge started checking the mail, we just covered our trails better.

"Hayley, sweetie, show me your wrists." I don't want to, I pull the sleeves of my top down until they cover my hands and bunch the extra material over in my fists. I shake my head furiously and curl up into a small ball, trying to make myself impossibly small. "Hayels please?" She says positioning herself so she's looking directly into my eyes, her violet eyes searching mine, pleading with me, but I can't if I show her she'll leave right? I mean, who could look at these scars and not be repulsed? "I promise you that I won't leave, but I really need you to show me your wrists."

"Promise?" I ask, hating how weak and broken my voice sounds.

"I promise." And I can tell she's sincere. I won't show her my thighs, no matter how much she asks and pleads but no one ever does, no one thinks of thighs, that's why I started cutting my thighs, they're easier to hide. I slowly roll my sleeves up and reveal the multitude of scars, from cutting and burning, going across from my wrists all the way up my elbows. She holds onto my hands her eyes full of unshed tears and she looks to be in pain.

"Don't look like that. I hurt myself not you."

"You hurting yourself hurts me." She whispers, so quietly I nearly don't hear it. I'm not sure I'm supposed to so I ignore it. She brings my arms to her lips and kisses some of the scars on both of my arms in a sweet notion of caring.

She moves back onto the bed and pulls my head into her lap and begins to stroke my hair and I feel calm, the calmness that usually only comes with the loss of blood.

"How did you keep this a secret? How did anyone not notice?"

"It's amazing what a long sleeve and a smile can hide. And being a Metamorphagus comes in handy too." I tell her, my voice barely above a whisper.

"What's it like?" She asks in the same, sad, calm, quiet, caring tone.

"To cut?" She nods.

I think, what is it like? How can I explain it? "Go to the beach, and walk in the water, blindfolded. You just keep walking, you don't know where you're going, you just know you're going deeper. That's what the build-up feels like. You don't know where you're going, depression has blinded you. All you know is you're going deeper, now just keep going until you drown. You want air, you want relief you don't want to be drowning any more. Now imagine the relief when someone pulls you out of the water. That's what cutting is. Relief. Relief from all the pain you've been drowning in, relief from not feeling good enough, relief from the bullies at school, relief from feeling like your fat, relief from your imperfections and insecurities. You might find cutting disgusting and you might never understand it but when you're drowning, you need saving. You need relief. So what is cutting like? Well it's relief."

"You don't have to do it any more, I'm with you. You're not alone any more Hayley."

"I am though. At three twenty-seven a.m. I'm alone, in my bed. You aren't with me, you can't stop me. I do it, and then I do it again and again, no one can help me, no one can stop me because when I wake up, broken, there is no one around to stop me."

"There is an easy way to fix that." Tonks tells me still stroking my hair, still keeping me calm.

"How?" There isn't I know that, if there was an easy way to stop mutilating myself I would've found it and stopped by now.

"I won't leave you. I'll double the size of this room, shove an extra bed in here and we can share this room, then in the middle of the night when you wake up, I'll wake up too and I will hold you until everything is fine again." She says this as if she actually believes everything will be fine, but then for her it will be. She doesn't get people killed, she doesn't have the weight of that stupid prophecy on her shoulders, she doesn't have to deal with all that crap, that's me.

"We can try it, but I won't be able to stop, not straight away. I've tried and it only made things worse." I'll never be able to stop I know that, it's too consuming, the scars and making more of them are all I ever really think about.

"Well then, when you want to… hurt yourself, come get me and I'll make sure you only do it a little bit and not too deep, then I'll sort them out afterwards." She says with a soft smile. She truly believes that she can help me, but that's impossible, I'm broken. Too far gone down this road, there's no turning back. This is depression and you're only done with it when it kills you.

**A/N: It will get better guys I swear, Hayley will get better… eventually and Tonks won't give up on her.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: So here is chapter five and I hope you enjoy it.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, still.**

There are two sayings that are complete lies, one; what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Well that's a lie. What doesn't kill you, sucks the air out of your lungs, scrapes the skin from your wrists and leaves you lying in bed at two a.m. wishing that it did. The other saying is; sticks and stones my break my bones but words will never hurt me. That's a lie too, you see sticks and stones can break my bones but words, words will leave permanent psychological problems and scars.

I tried so hard to get better, to get over this, to forget it all and move on and I thought that I was managing it, I thought I was getting to the point where I could say 'Wow, I'm feeling a lot better' but right now I couldn't feel any worse.

Me and Tonks are in the lounge watching my favourite show of all time, Winnie the Pooh, I know it's for kids but I love it. It calms me, it makes me happy.

"Why do you like this so much?" Tonks asks me, she's been watching me for a few minutes, looking at the small sad but content smile on my face.

"Because all of the characters have problems, just like me."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Pooh bear has an Eating Disorder, Piglet has Anxiety, Eeyore has Depression, Rabbit has OCD, Tigger has ADHD, Owl, Narcissism and Christopher Robin has Schizophrenia. It's just relatable and some of the quotes in it are what get me through some tough days."

"Like what?"

I think for a moment. "'If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together…there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is even if we're apart… I'll always be with you.' Then there is this one, 'Weeds are flowers, too, once you get to know them.' Or this is probably my favourite, '"It's snowing still," said Eeyore gloomily. "So it is." "And freezing." "Is it?" "Yes," said Eeyore. "However," He said brightening up a little, "we haven't had an earthquake lately."' There are others but those are my favourite."

"I like this one." Tonks says referring to what was just said on the TV. "If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you." I nod, I like that one too.

"Tonks?" I ask shifting away from her. I need to ask her a question, to see if it's only me, to see if she's ever done it. She hums to let me know she's listening. Breathe, that's it, a deep one in and now let it go. "Have you ever laid on your bed at night and just cried? Cried because you think you're ugly, because you're not good enough. You counted all your flaws from head to toe to punish and feel worse about yourself. Cried because the comments people blurt out actually hurt your feelings, cried because your whole family is dysfunctional and hate you but you're just a kid who can't do shit about it, they tell you to stop complaining that you have it much better than the kids in Africa who don't have a bed or clean water. You don't want to be a burden, so you bottle it all up and around people you're the happiest ray of sunshine but nobody knows that at night when you're alone you just break down and cry."

"I can't say I ever have." She whispers, her eyes still on the TV, still watching Pooh desperately try to get some honey but end up getting his head stuck instead. I nod, of course she hasn't there's no need for her to, she has a loving mother and father, people who she can talk to without being a burden. She doesn't have to crack from the pressure because no one is putting so much pressure onto her. After all, the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will make her as his equal, but she will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…

My thoughts are getting away from me again and I wonder, if people could read my mind I'm sure they'd be in tears. I have a razor blade in my pocket right now, this is one of those days where it's just enough to know that I have one on me. They're a very cold, sharp security blanket. I was getting better at one point, during my second year at Hogwarts, I was clean for seven months the longest ever, but then I remembered what I was trying to get away from, I remembered the things that tear me apart, and then I got sucked right back to the start.

I know it makes no sense causing pain to get away from pain but trust me, on some weird psychological level it all makes sense and it works.

I know this poem right, this poem is almost on a constant replay in my head no matter the mood I'm in it goes as follows;

She paints a pretty picture,  
But the story has a twist,  
Her paint brush is a razor,  
And her canvas is her wrist.  
She paints her pretty picture,  
In a colour that's blood red,  
While using her sharp paint brush,  
She ends up finally dead.  
Her pretty pictures fading,  
Quite slowly on her arm,  
The blood no longer racing through her,  
She can no longer do harm.  
She painted her pretty picture,  
But her picture had a twist.  
You see her mind was her razor,  
And her heart was her wrist.

Chirpy right? I got another one if you want it;

Mirror, mirror on my wall, I just want to be thin, pretty and tall.  
Mirror, mirror, if I change my hair, maybe someone will start to care.  
Mirror, mirror, if I starve myself, at least I'll be beautiful, forget my health.  
Mirror, mirror, if I cut my wrist, will I feel like I exist?  
Mirror, mirror, don't you see? What you show, is ruining me.

Last one;

People say she's just sad. I mean she can't sleep at night, she wishes she could die, she slices into her skin daily, she withdraws herself from her friends, her thoughts can eat her alive, she has zero motivation to do anything any more and all she can do is hate herself. But y'know, she's just sad.

You see I'm about to tell you why Depression is so bad, just try wrap your head around it, I know it's difficult if you don't suffer but just try. Every once in a while Depression loosens its grip on its victim, but just when they think they have gotten away it captures them, and they have to start all over again. Could you imagine? All that effort just for nothing. It's like one big, black hole and after it pulls you in, you can't get out. So you spend countless nights crying yourself to sleep, you spend days in your room, you feel like doing absolutely nothing, you're constantly hoping that things will get better, but also wondering if they ever actually will. And the worst part? When you think you're getting better and it pulls you back in again, you crash harder than before.

Living with depression it's like watching people around you breathing but instead, your blue lips inhale words of self-hatred and you know you should be able to fill your lungs with fresh oxygen like everyone else, but you can't. And the worst part is people mistake your chest frantically rising up and down as breathing when really, you're suffocating. Imagine that, could you? If you felt like that would you want to carry on? Could you carry on?

You see you stopped asking Mummy and Daddy to check under your bed for these monsters, and you stopped looking for them too because you finally realised. Monsters don't live under the bed, they live in your head.

I'm tired, my eyelids are heavy and they won't stay open for much longer, and being curled up on this sofa is so comfortable, so I'll leave you with this.

A Cutters Lullaby;

Go to sleep, and close your eyes,  
And dream of broken butterflies,  
That tore their wings against a thorn.  
You know the pain that they have borne.

Silver metal, shine so bright,  
Scarlet blood, that feels so right.  
Dream of that blood trickling down,  
And wake up just before you drown.

The moonlight shining off your tears,  
As you bleed out your own worst fears.  
So tonight when you start to cry,  
Whisper the cutters lullaby;

Hush-a-bye baby, you're almost dead.  
You don't have a pulse and your pillow is red.  
Your family hates you, your friends let you bleed.  
Sleep tight with a knife, cause it's all that you need.

Rock-a-bye baby, broken and scarred.  
You didn't know that life would be this hard.  
Time to end the pain that you hid so well,  
And down will come baby, straight back to hell.

Night night.

**A/N: Don't forget to review.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Chapter six and Hayley will be getting better soon, well she'll stop having so many depressive thoughts and stop self-harming soon.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. **

One cut. Two cut. Three cuts. Four. C'mon darling what's a little more? I'll take away your pain whilst you cry out thinking you're going insane. I'll give you a rush if you give me your trust. You'll cover me up so no one knows… but deep inside I'm eating at your soul… you want to stop but you can't let me go. You don't know why you let me take control… I'll make you happy, but just for a little while. So what's one cut? But I may lead to more but I promise you. You'll come back for more.

Twenty one cuts. Twenty one deep cuts is all you need, twenty one cuts is all it takes. One cut to feel some pain, two cuts to hit a vein, three cuts you're feeling okay, four cuts for the crappy day, five cuts your blood flows like a river, six cuts you shake and quiver, seven cuts what's one more? Eight cuts there's a puddle on the floor, nine cuts you've got a huge butt, ten cuts you think it's just another cut, eleven cuts when will you get you're relief?! Twelve cuts this one's extra deep, thirteen cuts you think you should be done, fourteen cuts you still make another one, fifteen cuts for being a failure, sixteen cuts you still go deeper, seventeen cuts you can't feel, eighteen cuts the blood doesn't seem real, nineteen cuts tears fall as your body does, twenty cuts your lips start to turn blue, twenty-one cuts you're mission is finally complete, you're lying in blood as you fall asleep…

"Why won't you let anyone try to fix you?" Tonks asks me breaking the silence we've been in, I woke up after sleeping for only half an hour but we've not spoken since I woke and that was over two hours ago.

"I can't remember who but someone once told me to be careful when trying to fix a broken person for you may cut yourself on their shattered pieces. That's why, I don't mind being broken, I'd rather not be broken but I'd also rather be broken than be the reason others are." She pulls me close and hugs me tightly.

"One day, I'm going to hug you so tightly that all your broken pieces meld together, it'll take some time, lots of talking and lots of hugs but one day I'll help you get fixed."

"Why do you think you aren't skinny enough?" Tonks used her Metamorphagus powers earlier and showed me how skinny I was, it isn't what I see when I look in the mirror but I know Tonks won't lie to me, she promised and for some reason I believe her.

"At ten years old kids eat fatty meals and have chubby thighs, runway models are there with bones well defined saying no to a burger and chips after all _a moment on the lips a lifetime on the hips._ Twelve years old balanced meals and pinching thighs, brainwashed to be pro anorexic and wanting to hurl after all_ no one likes a fat girl_. Fourteen years old skipping meals and thinner thighs, five mile runs for one cube of cheese, counting calories, not wanting meals after all _nothing tastes as good as skinny feels. _ At sixteen years old no meals and gaps between my thighs, arms like matchsticks and poking out ribs, size two dresses and a body so mini after all _everything looks good on you when you're skinny._ I heard that when I was younger, the world has managed to make food an issue everywhere, people don't get enough and starve, others have too much and it effects their health and then there are people who see models and don't believe that they are skinny enough so starve themselves or binge and purge."

"So it's all societies fault?" I nod. It is. After all, welcome to our society, you will be judged on what you wear, your taste in music, what you look like, what you say and how you act. Enjoy your stay.

Tonks. She confuses me, I feel weird when she's around, like just after I cut but not numb, y'know? I can't explain how it makes me feel, good I suppose, but confused too. The way she looks at me, as if she doesn't see any of my flaws, her eyes sparkle and there is something in her eyes, some emotion that I just can't place, and it's really starting to bother me. I'm feeling strongly about her but I can't, I think it's love but I don't deserve love and come on, who would love a girl with scars?

It's three a.m. and the voices in my head are telling me I'd be better off dead. They won't stop. My thoughts are killing me. It's always worse around this time and I'm left alone with the walls. They whisper everything they've ever known, every flaw that I hold, but yet again, maybe it's my fault because I hold so many. The moon understands though, it understands what it means to be human. Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections. The moon it sees your soul, your tears, heartaches and emptiness.

I get my blade and sit calmly on my bed. You think that when I cut I'd be crying, hyperventilating, inconsolable but I'm not. I'm nothing and that's the beauty of it, when I drag this sharp, cold security blanket across my delicate pale skin and see the beauty of small red beads seeping out I feel nothing but a sense of calm, calm and a small bit of pain. The voices stop but it's addicting. I am both the victim and the abuser. These scars represents my battles, the demons I have fought in the dead of the night. When I cut, the skin around it puffs, red like wine. The blood beads up perfectly in a crimson dotted line. It tingles and burns at first but then it feels so good, my mind is at peace even though my body is in pain and it feels so good and my mind asks for more. That one cut has turned into two and now four at this point I just keep cutting. There's no stopping myself from the warmness flowing through, everyone else is so goddamn happy why can't I be too? The blood drips and roles down my skin and a small content smile appears on my lips. That's the beauty of it.

"Hayley?" Tonks says her voice sad, broken. I look up and see tears in her eyes. When did she come in? How much did she see? Did she see me cut or just the aftermath? "Why? Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you come and get me?" She crosses the room and conjures up some bandages and disinfectant, I wince as she carefully disinfects my wounds, not pressing on too hard and doing it all with such caring that I have never shown myself.

"Because I can hurt myself but I could never hurt you. Emotionally or physically." I say so quietly I doubt she heard me… I hope she didn't.

"Tell me something." She says still cleaning my cuts.

Tell her what exactly? Why I did it? A poem? I write mostly poems about my feelings, it's easier. The latest one I wrote is the one that comes to mind and I know it's what she wants to hear. "An empty room, an empty girl, sitting silently on the floor, her sleeve rolled up, exposing skin, she drags the blade and presses in, the pain it brings cannot compare, to the joy she knows will soon be there. It's worth the scars, that never heal, for just a moment not to feel."

"Is that how you feel?" She asks in the same quiet voice I've been using.

"Yeah."

Tonks looks at me, her hands holding mine, her eyes searching mine. "You, Hayley, you are not your age, or the size of the clothes you wear. You are not a weight, or the colour of your hair. You are not your name or the dimples in your cheeks. You are all the books you read, and all the words you speak. You are your croaky morning voice, and the smiles you try to hide. You're the sweetness in your laughter, and every tear you've cried. You're the songs you sing so loudly when you know your alone, you're the places that you've been to, and the one that you call home. You're the things you believe in and the people that love you, you're the photos in this room and the future you dream of. You're made of so much beauty but it seems you've forgot this when you decided that you were to be defined by all the things you're not." My eyes water but I refuse to let the tears fall. Tonks stands up and heads to the door.

"Don't." I call after her my voice breaking. "Please, don't leave me."

"What do you want?" She asks her eyes shining with some emotion that I just can't place.

What do I want? I want to sleep with her and I don't mean have sex, I mean sleep, together. Under my blankets, in my bed, with my head on her chest and her arms wrapped around me, the window cracked open so it's a little chilly and we have to cuddle closer, no talking just sleepy, blissfully happy, silence. I can't tell her that though so what do I mean? "Can you stay with me, keep the nightmares away? Please?"

She nods and smiles, climbs into my bed after me and wraps her arms around me and I feel safe, protected, she moves me so my head is resting on her chest. I can hear her heart beating and I make my breathing match it. This is the first time anything like this has ever happened to me, no one has ever comforted me before because no one thinks I need it. That's the problem with being strong, everyone turns to you when there's a problem or they're not strong enough but where is the strong one supposed to turn when it all gets too much?

I can feel sleep pull me in, my escape, well if I don't have nightmares that is. Sleeping helps me escape from the demons after all Hell is empty. And all the Demons are up here.

**A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this chapter.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: So here is chapter seven, thanks for the reviews, favourites and follows. You guys rock!**

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling rang me yesterday and offered me the Harry Potter franchise but I turned her down -_- why did I do that?**

I'm awake but I haven't opened my eyes yet, I don't want to. The steady beating of Tonks' heart is what I'm focused on. Tonks is awake but she doesn't know I am… I think, she keeps pressing kisses into my hair, her grip still tight and comforting. Protective as if she's trying to protect me from everything and everyone that could possible hurt me. Tonks moves and accidently brushes up against my wrist irritating one of my fresh cuts. I can't help it, I let out a small, pained whimper. Her grip tightens on me and she kisses the top of my head again. I snuggle in deeper to her relishing in the comfort that this is bringing me.

Did you know each year 30,000 people die? Not from disease or natural causes, they die from pain. They die because they feel unwanted, unneeded, they die because they feel that it's there only way out. Their only way out of this terrible mess. What mess you ask? The mess you take for granted every day. The mess that is life.

When I was four Aunt Petunia did the nicest thing ever for me, at the time, she gave me this beautiful porcelain dolly with a pale, emotionless face, rosy cheeks and skinny legs. She told me I was as beautiful as my new dolly but her face and voice didn't make me believe it. When I was seven, I wanted to be more like my dolly so I tried to stop smiling, it wasn't too hard but I failed sometimes. When I was ten my aunt called me fat so I rushed to my cupboard and cried and my doll fell and broke her left arm. I glued the parts together but there were still cracks, so I got a marker and drew lines on my wrist too. When I was 13 I spent a lot of time in my room, here and at Hogwarts, figuring out how to be more like my dolly even though I hated her for being more beautiful than me. When I was fourteen I stopped eating because that's what my dolly did. Now, the lines on my wrist have become cracks, my face is tired, but yet pale. I'm not smiling and I'm barely eating. Look Aunt Petunia, I look like my dolly now. I still have that dolly, it's on the top of the wardrobe. I used to take it to Hogwarts with me but I stopped when I realised it was destroying me, I realised to late though.

I often write on my notebook with a pen of mine and sometimes, the words are too deep that they bleed my, through the pages, but no one knows about my notebook because I hide them with long sleeves, sweaters and jeans. I do love my pen though, I sharpen them every once in a while when they blunt from writing too much.

"Hayley I promise you this now, I will save you." Tonks whispers, I keep my eyes closed, my breathing steady. I keep the pretence of sleep up, I want to know what she's going to say. No I need to know. "And I promise you now I will never leave you." She presses another kiss into my hair, takes a deep steadying breath as if she's trying to find the courage to continue, "And I will be here no matter how many times you push me away. Like the ocean and the shoreline, there is nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline no matter how many times it's sent away… nothing apart from you. I know it'll be hard and that you can't fight every second of the day but you're not fighting alone anymore Hayels, I will be with you every step of the way." She sighs and I feel some tears drip into my hair. "This is terrible. God. Do you know why? The most beautiful girl in the world can't even see her own beauty. The prettiest girl at Hogwarts secretly hates every part of her body, that she cuts, burns and starves herself every night and the only way for her to fall asleep is when she cries. Want to know what the most terrible part is? She wouldn't believe me if I wrapped my arms around her and told her that I love her."

"Who?" I ask her quietly, she doesn't even jump, she must've known I was awake. Damn.

"You silly." She whispers and presses another kiss into my hair.

"You can't love me." I tell her shaking my head.

She chuckles softly. "Knew you'd say that. Why can't I?"

"Multiple reasons. If you fall in love with me, you've got to know about my constant meltdowns, and the nights of endless tears. You've got to know about my damaged heart and how I don't know what love is or how to express it, you've got to know about my broken soul too. That I hardly ever sleep at night and that when I do I'm plagued with nightmares and that sometimes I talk in my sleep. You've got to know that I'll crave your love because I've never felt it before, as well as my distant personality and the constant fear I'll have of losing you. You've got to know that anyone I care about or anyone that cares about me gets hurt in some way or another or that they die. You've got to know that if you ask me how I'm feeling I'll probably answer with I'm fine because I don't want you to have to suffer with my demons the way I am, that my body will always be covered in these scars that only I could ever find beautiful because to me they're like flowers, roses to be exact. I remember when I first planted them on my skin.

"And that _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark her as his equal, but she will have a power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die and the hand of the other for neither can live whilst the other survives… The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…_

"You can't because I'm sad and you cannot tell a sad person that they're pretty unless you are prepared to hold them as they sob hysterically at three a.m. You're not allowed to tell a sad person that they are perfect if you haven't seen all the wounds and scars that cover their bodies and represent each battle lost in a war within themselves. And you can't, you're not allowed to tell a sad person that you are in love with them unless you truly and entirely are otherwise you're going to break me more than I've ever broken myself."

"I know about all that Hayley and I still love you, I meant what I said you don't have to face your demons alone. I will stay with you every step of the way, I promise. Your scars are a part of you and they are beautiful just like the rest of you, and I can teach you everything I know about love and the rest we can learn together." She stops and takes a deep breath in. "And if you are the only one who can stop V-V-Voldemort than I will help you in any way I can, even though you said you've got to be the only one to do it, it doesn't mean you are alone, I won't ever let you be alone again.

"You are pretty and I'm ready to hold you whilst you cry at whatever time it is, you are perfect and I've only seen you're wrists so I'm assuming that you've got more scars somewhere but I promise you now Hayley Lily Potter no matter how many scars, no matter whereabouts they are on your body, you will still be the prettiest person I have ever seen. And Hayley I love you, truly and entirely, I wouldn't say it if I didn't but I do, with everything I am. I will try my hardest to fix you but I promise you that I won't ever break you further."

"You can't love me you just can't." I sob, when did I start crying?

"Why not Hayley, tell me why you can't accept that I love you?"

"I don't love myself. I can't stand myself, heck I hate myself! That's why. How can you love me when I can't even look at myself in the mirror?"

"When you look in the mirror the reflection of yourself that you see has been distorted by the socially constructed ideas of 'beauty', you don't see what I see. You truly beautiful Hayley and it doesn't matter if you don't love yourself because I love enough for the two of us. Promise."

"Tonks, I- I think I lo- like you too." I stammer out, immediately squeezing my eyes shut to try and protect myself, from what? I'm not entirely sure. She presses a feather light kiss onto my lightning bolt scar and I smile. Not a full mega-watt grin but a small, happy smile. The first for a very long time.

She tightens her hold on me and I snuggle in deeper to her chest as if it's the most natural thing ever and like I've been doing this forever. "Let's sleep some more sweetie, you still look tired."

"Night." I mumble.

She chuckles quietly and kisses my hair again. "Goodnight beautiful. I love you, forever and always."

**A/N: Always, Potterheads are the only ones who know the true meaning of that word. :')**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Dreams are in italics.**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter; if I did Harry would not have gone with Ginny. In my opinion that was just too predictable.**

"_Hayley Potter. How nice to see you." I spin around but can't see anything, it's all black. "Ha ha ha, can't find me?" I know who it is. I've heard that voice too many times. Lord Voldemort or Tom Riddle depends who you talk too really._

"_What do you want Tom?" I call ready to fall into our usual routine. Me insulting him and him torturing me._

"_My name is not Tom!" He hisses menacingly, I role my eyes still looking around trying to find him._

"_But it is. Tom Marvolo Riddle, son of Tom Riddle. Muggle." _

"_CRUCIO!" The yellow-whit colour flies at me. Fuck. My knees buckle in pain as I writher on the floor convulsing in pain. After what feels like an eternity the curse is lifted and the room brightens up. A completely empty chamber, well empty apart from, what looks like a surgery table, Tom and Me._

_I stand up ignoring the protesting of my muscles. "What the fuck do you want snake face?" He waves his wand and Tonks appears on the table._

"_Crucio." He hisses smiling at me as the spell smacks into Tonks chest. She screams and I run towards her._

"_STOP! STOP! PLEASE STOP! I'LL DO ANYTHING JUST STOP HURTING HER!" I yell, holding onto her avoiding the flailing limbs. He lifts the curse._

"_Anything?" I nod. "No I think I'd rather hurt her. CRUCIO!" _

"_No! TONKS! TONKS! PLEASE GOD STOP HURTING HER! NO PLEASE! HURT ME INSTEAD! KILL ME!"_

"_What?" He asks surprised as he lifts the curse._

"_Kill me, let her go. Don't hurt her, if you let her go and promise not to hurt her. I'll let you kill me."_

_He smirks. "Crucio." And now I'm screaming, my knees have buckled and I'm convulsing about on the floor in pain. My muscles contracting in pain. He lifts the curse._

"_That hurt, but my uncles done worse with some wires and an scolding hot bath."_

"_I know of your high pain tolerance Hayley Potter, it is indeed, irritating. I know you can handle your pain but how much? How many times can I, Lord Voldemort Crucio you before you break?"_

"_You really need to stop talking in the third person, it's getting real annoying." I spit and get hit by another Crucio, and another, and another, and another and this is pain beyond comprehension. No wonder people go nuts because of it._

"_Hayley." That's not his voice. "Hayley, sweetie wake up. It's just a nightmare honey. It's not real. C'mon honey wake up." It's Tonks but her mouth isn't moving. It's not coming from her. What did she say? Dream! It's not real, just a nightmare, not real. Need to wake up. "Come back to me Hayels, open your eyes baby." It's the hardest thing in the world to do. Tom is still crucio-ing me, Tonks is laying on the table unconscious, I'm thrashing about the floor in pain and Real Tonks is asking me to come back to her. _

I wrench my eyes open, Tonks is holding onto me, tightly. Stroking my hair, mumbling sweet nothings into my ear, reassuring me that everything is okay and that she will never leave me.

"I'm fine." I whisper, still tense, the dream still too fresh.

"You were screaming." She tells me.

"I'm usually quiet, sorry."

"What was your nightmare about?"

"Nothing." I mumble.

"You were screaming my name." She says, I move my head into the crook of her neck.

"Couldn't let him hurt you." I whisper against her hoping she can't hear.

"Who?"

"Tom."

"Tom?"

Oh yeah, his real name isn't common knowledge. "Voldemort." She breathes in sharply, but she doesn't shudder like most people do. "I can't let him hurt you. He can hurt me all he wants, kill me even, but he can't hurt you."

"What would you usually do after a nightmare like that?" She asks quietly.

Should I answer that? It might upset her, but she wants to know, I can tell she does. "Cut." I say so quietly knowing that it'll break her.

"So you can't feel right?" Her voice sounds strong but I know it's an act, you notice stuff like that when you're as screwed up as me.

"So I can be numb yeah."

She puts her fingers under my chin and softly pushes my chin up so I'm looking at her. She looks into my eyes and I stare back into hers that are currently a pretty shade of violet. She presses a feather light kiss onto my lips and then wraps her arms around me again.

"I won't leave you Hayley, it'll take more than You-Know-Who to keep me away from you. Trust me."

"I do." I whisper. It's him that I don't.

"I love you Hayley." She whispers as if she knows that I need her to say that, and I love her too I know that, at least I think this is love. I don't really have much experience with positive emotions.

"Will you still love me when it's three in the morning and I'm crying so hard I can't breathe?"

"Yes."

"Will you still love me when I coat my pillows in mascara and eyeliner because I've suddenly remembered how worthless I am?"

"You're not worthless Hayels, but yes I'll still love you then?"

"Will you still love me when I shut you out and won't explain to you why because I don't want to bring you down?"

"Yes."

"Will you still love me when I can't handle being strong and I find relief in razors instead of your arms?"

"Yes." She nods as well.

"Will you still love me when you know I have demons constantly lurking in my mind just waiting to mess everything up?"

"Always. No matter what happens Hayley I will always love you."

I nod. "Kay, because you're becoming my everything and I don't want the darkness to mess this up. I'll try to recover but there will always be relapses and it won't be instant. I'd love to tell you that I'll be better tomorrow but I've been through so many tomorrows and nothing has changed."

"We'll make it through together, I promise you." She says with such conviction I smile and do something that shocks me and probably her. I kiss her cheek, just a small one but it seals my promise, I will try my hardest to get better but it'll be really hard. I've been sad for such a long time that it's all I really know how to do, I'm not sure I could be happy again.

**A/N: My shortest chapter. I'm sorry but updates will take longer now, college is getting in the way. Don't forget to review.**


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